I have been going through a pretty tough case of "block" lately. Writer's block, producer's block - whatever best applies, it's just been a bit rough.I feel that I'm finally digging my way out, and not through any power of my own. What traction I'm getting now is thanks to my shamelessness about running with ideas other people offer me. A new idea, with some tweaks of my own, and, slowly but surely, I'm moving again. (Sorry, "moving" is a bad choice of word considering the title of this entry...)
This case has been useful, though, to get me to stop and consider some of the trappings of a block.
1. The "Good Will Hunting" Effect
Remember this exchange from Good Will Hunting?
OK, OK - maybe I'm making too much of it... But there's the awful sense - when you're in a block - that it's your fault. As if you're missing something... There's something you're not doing... There's a line / an image /an idea you haven't come across, and the block could be broken if you just....
The truth is, "It's not you fault"... I credit Todd Henry (who's Accidental Creative can be found in a link on this site) for pointing out, over and over, in his work that the creative process isn't like a factory. You can't just add shifts to make up for shortfalls of inventory. The creative process requires that there be "down time", periods during which your batteries are allowed to recharge through exposure to stimuli, free thinking, and, yes, rest.
Great ideas don't come automatically. If they did, there would be nothing special about them. Sometimes they allude you. On occasion, they allude you for quite some time.
And that's the rub: In a create-on-demand job, the client doesn't give a damn about "the creative process". To her, the creative is just a cog in the wheel. It's a widget. They paid for it, they want it.
So this whole thing turns into a balancing act. "How can I turn out something that accomplishes the task, even though I am short on a 'great idea'?" If you figure that part out, let me know. But either way, "It's not your fault".
2. Holding yourself up to certain standards
Have you ever come up with something so good that you end up being defined by it - FOREVER?!
Imagine the horror of being Tatum O'Neal. Or Francis Ford Coppola. Or The Go-Go's. God bless all these folks. Here they were doing their thing, and somehow they conquered the world.
Tatum wins an Academy Award at age 10, then has to spend the rest of her life living up to it.
Coppola creates the Quintessential American Movie (Sorry, Citizen Kane!) at an early stage in his career, and then gets saddled with the burden of it for the rest of his life.
The Go-Go's put out "Beauty and the Beat", and become sensations. Then, "Vacation" comes along and leads to the decline of their popularity.
Now I don't equate what we do with "The Godfather"... But sometimes, we do something that's quite good. We get proud of it. Others like to point out how good they thought it was; sometimes they even bring it up when talking to you or introducing you to others - "This is Jim, the man responsible for that wonderful campaign last year!"
When this happens, it should be considered a fortunate accident. You got lucky. You hit a homer against a pitcher with a low ERA. It happens, but not very often.
Instead, we start to treat it as our new yardstick. Everything you do from that point on has to be measured against the previous standard. "It's good, but you've done better."
At the risk of offending you, let me give you some help: It probably wasn't as good as you remember. Or, more gently, it couldn't have been so good as to derail you for life.
Maybe the other thing was, indeed, better. If you're that good, you may hit the nail that squarely on the head again. Or, you may not. Being a "creative" means you learn to make peace with ephemery. If you can't make that peace, it'll come back on you. So get it together, suck it up, and stop dwelling on your old yardsticks.
3. It's not all on you
This is a similar effect to the "Good Will Hunting" one, but slightly different. It's the terrible feeling you get that you're carrying the load all by yourself. That sense that if you don't figure it out, no one else will.
This is the worst of the bunch because it's the one that can debilitate you the most, in my opinion. We creatives aren't meant to work in silos. But if you feel the burden placed squarely on you and only you, it can be "game over". You'll retreat into that isolation, which invariably breeds fear and distrust.
When that happens, it's time to call in the cavalry. Get everybody else on the team to give you their thoughts, their insights, any ideas they've been floating (of course, this only works if you have a team that functions healthily).
It's OK to admit your well is temporarily dry. Someday, these people will come to you fill their well. And that day you will return the favor. You'd be surprised what you can run with once a fellow creative pitches you on an idea, or helps you hash out the creative from their point of view.
